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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28687758">Left, Then Right</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/stratuslost/pseuds/stratuslost'>stratuslost</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Awkward and Unbetad, Love Notes and Bad Poetry, M/M, Meagan the Barkeep, Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:15:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,841</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28687758</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/stratuslost/pseuds/stratuslost</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When pale pink envelopes start showing up at SI:7 there's only one conclusion to be drawn. Mathias Shaw has a secret admirer. Now, if only he knew who it was.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>68</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Left, Then Right</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Unbetad, quick little idea that wouldn't leave me alone. Let me know if you spot any typos so I can fix them. </p><p>I was going to put something else here, but forgot what.</p><p>So, thank you for reading and enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>Roses are red,<br/>
Stormwind favors blue,<br/>
There’s something in your eyes,<br/>
That makes me want to know you.</i>
</p><p>It had started with a single note, deposited on his desk with a snicker. The pale pink envelope was delicate and clearly hand folded. It’d been stamped with the approval of SI:7’s postmaster, clear from any powders or chemical residue, and Mathias Shaw had spent an inordinate amount of time frowning at the slip of paper he’d pulled from it. </p><p>In the end, he’d tossed it in the fireplace.</p><p>--</p><p>
  <i>It’s a cheesy line and I’m sure you’re heard it more than one time,<br/>
But, were I to ask, is there a way someone like me could make you mine?</i>
</p><p>And then, the second one had arrived, this time with a small, lavender flower pressed between a folded slip of paper. </p><p>He’d tossed the note and kept the flower.</p><p>--</p><p>
  <i>Re: The cheesy line- see below.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Check yes, or no.</i>
</p><p>When the third one arrived, less than a week later, Mathias decided to take a different approach. </p><p>He wrote back. </p><p>Though, he’d refrained from marking ‘No’ in bright red ink, and simply ignored the question, instead asking one of his own. </p><p>
  <i>Who is this.</i>
</p><p>He’d hoped that would be the end of it, that such a direct question from the Spymaster of SI:7 would deter any other unwanted missives, but he was incorrect. </p><p>He sat behind his desk, staring at the newest slip of paper, this one not a poem, but a sketch of a flower he didn’t recognize losing its petals to a breeze, with a line from something familiar. Mathias was rather sure it’d come from some tune he’d heard before but he couldn’t place it; something that irked him, despite rationalizing that he hardly had time to remember every lyric to every jig, drinking song, or shanty he’d ever heard.</p><p>Below the flower sat two boxes, a ‘y’ over one and an ‘n’ over the other. </p><p>Mathias shook his head and sighed. He picked up the envelope, catching a whiff of something warm. He raised it to his nose and sniffed cautiously. </p><p>Someone had certainly placed a drop of some sort of perfume inside the envelope and Mathias took a moment to enjoy the scent. It was bright and full, something that reminded him of mahogany cabinets and the heaviness of cigars. There was a little bite to it that he couldn’t place, but he suspected it had roots in some form of salve or cleaner. </p><p>“So,” he murmured to the paper. “You’re a man, hm?”</p><p>He set the envelope down and pulled his desk drawer open. </p><p>Many missives and notes were sent in and out of the SI:7 building, but he kept a small stack of envelopes and papers for notes sent directly to the King. The paper was of nice weight, soft to the touch, and had a professional quality he felt was necessary when dealing with the royal family. </p><p>He’d spare one for the sap sending love notes. </p><p>Mathias dipped his quill into the ink and scribbled out a few lines. His handwriting was neat and tidy, but nothing like the loopy script from the notes he’d received. </p><p>Still, it did the job and once the ink had dried, he slipped the paper into the envelope and set it in the pile to go out in the morning. </p><p>
  <i>You’ve piqued my curiosity,<br/>
Not an easy thing to do.<br/>
But before you continue,<br/>
I’ve a riddle for you.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Two men step into the night, one goes left and one goes right. Two steps and they stop, trapped. What happened to them?</i>
</p><p>--</p><p>Mathias chuckled and Renzik poked his head in from the hall, eyebrows waggling. “What’s so funny, boss?” </p><p>“Nothing that concerns you,” Mathias said, purposefully throwing a dismissive hint Renzik’s way. </p><p>The goblin rolled his eyes but went on his way with only minor grumbling and Mathias sighed. It’d been three weeks and fifteen letters, and he would admit that the whole affair was beginning to become a problem. What had started as amusement had turned from short notes with little poems and riddles to small letters and vague discussion. </p><p>It was, to put it simply, becoming a distraction, and though he’d put it off, labeling the whole thing as rather harmless fun, it was time to find out just who was behind the confessions and put an end to it. He had bigger things to focus on than cheesy one liners and a mystery man with a penchant for bad poetry.</p><p>The postmaster, damn him, had simply smiled and gone about his business when Mathias had questioned him. Though he’d wanted to, he’d not pressed the matter, given that the man was old, to say the least. He deserved the respect and, truly, it wasn’t a matter of great importance to bother him with. He worked quietly and quickly, and claimed that he didn’t work for the pay, but simply because it kept him from dying. </p><p>In a way, Mathias understood the sentiment behind his words. </p><p>That aside, there were other sentiments that were far more important than those he’d heard hundreds of times. </p><p>In his pocket the stack of letters weighed heavily on him as he made his way through the streets of Stormwind. It was mid evening and plenty of people were milling about, heading toward taverns for an evening meal or home from a long day spent working. It was one of his favorite times of the day and he let himself blend in with the crowd as he made his way toward The Pig and Whistle. </p><p>As he’d been considering whether he should search out his secret admirer he’d put together a few logical places to start with his search, were he to do so. There’d been a few slips of the tongue, so to speak, and a few admissions in the letters that gave the man away a little at a time. </p><p>He’d mentioned how fine the ale was in Stormwind and a ‘lovely’ barkeep that had directed him toward writing the notes. </p><p>Mathias had narrowed the start of his search to a tavern with a barkeep he knew was rather lovely, both in personality and her looks, and one that was frequented by visitors to the city. </p><p>He stepped through the door and moved up to the counter when he spotted Meagan filling mugs. </p><p>She hadn’t even turned when she greeted him, a quality he appreciated about her. She was observant and highly intelligent. “Master Shaw, quite the pleasant surprise. Will you be having your usual, sir?” </p><p>Would he? </p><p>He supposed a drink couldn’t hurt and he leaned on the counter. “Please, and a moment of your time.” </p><p>She glanced back at him, eyebrows lifted. “My, my. Not everyday the Spymaster asks for my time.” </p><p>He chuckled quietly and watched as she deposited the drinks she’d been pouring at the far end of the bar. She pulled a bottle from a wooden shelf as she came back and grabbed a cold glass from a box he knew was kept under the counter, filled with a layer of ice inside the metal casing. A splash of brown fell into the glass and she set it in front of him with a warm smile. </p><p>“What can I do for you, dear?” </p><p>“I was-”</p><p>
  <i>“Shaw!”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Oh, no.</i>
</p><p>Mathias stifled a groan, the relaxing nature of his evening vanishing the moment he heard the loud, <i>cheerful</i> greeting.</p><p>“Captain Fairwind,” Meagan greeted, her smile widening noticeably. “Welcome back.”</p><p>The smile the barkeep gave Fairwind made him want to roll his eyes but, of course, he kept that urge to himself. The man was charming and only a fool would try to deny it; and that was likely part of the reason he ground Mathias’s gears so much. That nature had never come easily to him and to the Captain it was like breathing. Handsome, with hair many a woman would be willing to kill for, and a bright smile - at a glance, the man truly did have it all. </p><p>The Captain clapped Mathias on the back and he had to reign in the automatic response to shy away from the touch. He swore the man forgot how big he was. One of his pats could have sent lesser men tumbling and it was only sheer willpower that kept Mathias standing. </p><p>“Captain.” Mathias turned to him and nodded, his grip on his glass tightening slightly.</p><p>Why Fairwind ruffled his feathers so much, Mathias had no clear answer on. He was of a mind, however, that it had something to do with the man’s ability to burrow beneath his skin at every given opportunity.  </p><p>Fairwind smiled at him and picked up the mug that was slid into his hand. “How are you, mate? It’s been quite some time since we’ve crossed paths.” </p><p>Had it been? Mathias couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in Boralus, but he didn’t think it had been that long ago.</p><p>“I am well,” he answered simply, glancing over the man. He looked well, tidy for once, and just as vivacious as ever. “And you?”</p><p>“Fine and dandy, as always, Shaw.” </p><p>Mathias nodded and knocked back the chilled whiskey, silently savoring the sweetness on his tongue and the burn on his lips. “Well, I’ll be going now… Fairwind, it was nice to see you. Have a nice evening, the both of you.” </p><p>He turned, straightening his jacket but was stalled when Meagan called out to him and he turned to her. “Wait, Master Shaw, what was it that you wanted to ask me?”</p><p>“Nothing of great import.” </p><p>“Now, now,” Flynn started, smiling wider as he raised his mug. “Don’t stop on my account.” </p><p>Mathias waged a very short internal battle with himself. On one hand, yes, he truly wanted to know who’d picked him, of all people, to mail those ridiculous notes to. On the other hand, he did not need Flynn Fairwind hearing that he had a secret admirer. </p><p>“...I was looking for someone,” he began. “Perhaps a patron of yours.” </p><p>Meagan moved to lean on the counter. “Oh?”</p><p>Mathias nodded and cleared his throat. “There have been some...unusual missives delivered to SI:7 lately and it’s come time to put a stop to them.” </p><p>Fairwind’s eyebrows shot up and he almost ran from the room, pride be damned, when the man leaned closer, his presence uncomfortably close in the room. “What kind of ‘missives’?” </p><p>“The kind that are kept private,” Mathias bit out and the Captain just laughed. </p><p>“Oh, my...they the kind of missives that’ve got you checking your glass for poison, or the kind that get you a little hot under the collar there, mate?” </p><p>To his utter disbelief, Mathias felt the tips of his ears burn and his cheeks warm without his consent. </p><p>
  <i>Damn it. </i>
</p><p>Fairwind’s grin took a rather wicked turn and Mathias nodded sharply to the barkeep before turning on his heel and striding out of the tavern without another word. </p><p>Damn that blasted, salty, fool of a man. He was a handful in Boralus and in Stormwind he was just the same, somehow becoming a thorn in his side no matter the place. He was brash - uncouth - and his shenanigans were almost as bad as what some of the Gnomes got up to during their ‘research’ missions. </p><p>The man was a mess and he was fully aware of it, wearing it with a grin and an audacious pride that could be seen all across the seas he loved so much. </p><p>Had it not been unbecoming of his position, he might have stomped his way down the cobblestone streets leading out of the district.</p><p>“I never took you as one to run away, Shaw.”</p><p>Mathias jumped, whipping around as his hand fell to his hip and the knife he kept there. “<i>Light be damned</i>, Fairwind!”</p><p>The Captain ducked back with a laugh. “My apologies, <i>Spymaster</i>. Did I scare you?”</p><p>Mathias huffed. “The only thing that scares me about you, <i>Captain</i>, is your absolute disregard for personal space and social propriety.” </p><p>That earned him another laugh, loud and full, and Mathias tried not to scowl at him as he attempted to pull himself together. The street had mostly cleared out and, thankfully, it didn’t appear that anyone had noticed his little outburst, or the other man’s blatant amusement. </p><p>“Do you require something, Fairwind?” He bit out, clipped and short.</p><p>“I require many things, Shaw, but right now? I want to hear more about these letters you’ve been receiving.”</p><p>“I never said they were addressed to me.”</p><p>Fairwind arched an eyebrow, his lips curving into a knowing smile. “Your face certainly did.” </p><p>Mathias gave in to the urge to roll his eyes and turned away again, unwilling to have the conversation Fairwind apparently felt was necessary. “This is none of your business.”</p><p>“Humor me.”</p><p>“No.” </p><p>“Come on, Shaw. ...please?”</p><p>His steps slowed and he mulled the thought over quickly, dismissing Fairwind’s sudden bout of manners. A second set of eyes could be useful, and Fairwind was ridiculous enough that, perhaps, he would see something that Mathias had missed in the letters. They were, after all, not his specialty. He wouldn’t be surprised if the Captain had received many a love letter in his life, and even written a few. </p><p>“C’mon, mate...it’ll be fun,” the Captain coaxed, his tone even and quite clearly controlled by his desire to know just what was in those letters. </p><p>He’d moved closer and Mathias glanced over his shoulder. “Only if you stop doing that.” </p><p>Fairwind pulled back quickly and stepped up to his side, though he kept a bit of distance between them. “Yes, sir.” </p><p>“And try to be slightly less of a pompous ass, while you’re at it.” </p><p>He could tell the man wanted to laugh. He could almost see the amusement pushing at his lips, making his chest expand with the sheer force of it but, to Fairwind’s credit, he didn’t. He nodded and gave a tiny, loose salute. “I think I can do that.” </p><p>“Hm.” Mathias gave him a once over. “We shall see.” </p><p>He dug the letters out of his pocket and handed them over to the man who, with enthusiasm befitting a child, pulled them open one by one. With every slip of paper his smile widened and when he looked at Mathias there was a brightness to his eyes that almost made him nervous. It was an unreadable look, controlled with soft edges, and he didn’t like it. Fairwind wore his heart on his sleeve, for all to see, and that was the one thing that Mathias truly enjoyed about the man.</p><p>There was no guessing, though there were plenty of games.</p><p>“Well,” the Captain began, taking his time as he seemed to consider his words carefully. “These are quite interesting.”</p><p>“Perhaps. However, the more interesting question is who sent them?”</p><p>Fairwind’s head tipped almost imperceptibly to the left, his brows furrowing, expression questioning. “You really don’t know?” </p><p>“If I knew, I wouldn’t be making my way to a tavern to ask a barkeep about them, would I?”</p><p>Was the man even listening? Did he think this was some kind of joke?</p><p>It was likely, Mathias supposed. Fairwind did come with a questionable sense of humor, after all. Mathias often wondered if it was just something with sailors, or perhaps so much time spent at sea. </p><p>“How did you know to go to the tavern, then?” Fairwind asked. </p><p>Mathias shrugged. “Isn’t it obvious? The comment of the drinks and the barkeep. Meagan is one of the few in Stormwind to be considered lovely in any regard.”</p><p>“Damn,” Fairwind murmured and he glanced down at the letters again, his thumb rubbing slowly across the paper. “You really are quite perceptive, aren’t you, Shaw?”</p><p>“It comes with the territory.”</p><p>The Captain fell quiet, flipping through the notes again and he paused, a small smile tugging at his lips that made Mathias pause. </p><p>It was a warm look and he hadn’t expected to receive any reaction other than amusement, perhaps a bit of joking, maybe some insistence they solve the puzzle faster to satisfy his curiosity. This, though he wasn’t as familiar with Fairwind’s expressions as some may be, was something different, something softer. </p><p>It was unsettling in a way that made the pit of his stomach do a slow flip. Some of the brazen, loud mouthed, rough edges had softened around his shoulders and it made Mathias want to question him, to know what Fairwind had seen in the letters that he’d missed.</p><p>“It sounds like you’re well liked, mate.” Fairwind cleared his throat. “Why’re you trying to find this man?” </p><p>Truth be told, he’d avoided asking himself that question. It had, of course, started as an annoyance then turned to amusement. It had then become a way to pass the time, entertaining and somewhat flattering. Perhaps, he’d thought, it was the loneliness of the job that made him return the note, then he’d chalked it up to curiosity as the simpler answer - the one that required less thought. It was his job to know things, after all, and this was a new mystery that needed solving.</p><p>Now, however, he was questioning his motives. </p><p>He could almost admit to himself that it had been nice to be the center of someone’s attention, even for the few moments it took to pen the notes. As the Spymaster he held so many secrets, but none of them were quite as gentle, quite as sweet as the pale envelopes. Very few of the secrets he kept were his own and this was just that, meant for him and no one else. It was flattering. </p><p>It was intoxicating and it made him long for something he’d given up long ago, of a life he’d once wanted.</p><p>“I just want to know who it is,” he said simply, though it wasn’t one of his better lies and he knew Fairwind could see right through it. </p><p>“You don’t need to hide your reason’s from me, Spymaster. Your secrets are safe with me.” </p><p>Fairwind pressed the letters against Mathias’s chest and he noticed that, at some point, the man had gotten close, again. The space he’d pointedly put between them had all but melted away and something about the bigger man had softened even further. He wasn’t as imposing, as larger than life as he’d seemed every other time they’d spoken. Mathias could hear the sounds of the canal, the croaking of frogs hidden somewhere in the water, the sounds of the breeze moving through the streets, and the silence stretched between them. </p><p>The sun had almost set and something about the cast of the colors on the buildings, the pinks and oranges of the evening, gave a gentle note to the words. </p><p>He couldn’t stand it. </p><p>“Fairwind-” </p><p>“Flynn,” the Captain interrupted. “My name is Flynn.”</p><p>Mathias felt his ears warm again and he briefly considered the possibility that something had been off about that whiskey. “Flynn, then.” </p><p>Flynn smiled and nodded to him expectantly, yet whatever he’d been about to say had fled.</p><p>The man was so close. He could hear his breathing and feel the warmth rolling off of him. He smelled like honey and cigars, like something musky and spicy only found on the coast, and Mathias stepped back. </p><p>“I need to be going. This can wait until another day.” </p><p>He took another step back, ready to turn and flee, but Flynn grabbed his hand. Instinctively he moved to tug it free but he froze when the man’s words washed over him, clear and concise as every other sound of the city faded. </p><p>“How about,” Flynn said softly, his words pointed and gentle. “...you go left and I’ll go right, and we’ll see what happens.” </p><p>Mathias felt his heart pounding in his chest, could hear it in his ears, and his throat tightened. </p><p>He felt like a string stretched taut over a violin. He knew his skin was flushed, the feeling of being too warm and too cold hard to ignore, and he looked away quickly, tugging his hand once again.</p><p>And once again, Flynn held tighter.</p><p>“-<i>you</i>.” </p><p>“Guilty.” </p><p>“This isn’t funny, Fairwind.”</p><p>“<i>Flynn.”</i></p><p>
  <i></i>
</p><p>
  <i></i>
</p><p>Flynn’s smile was hesitant and Mathias took a long look at him. </p><p>It felt like the first time, though he’d seen the Captain hundreds of times over the last few months, running into him at every turn in Boralus. Had his eyes always been so blue? Had he always looked so vulnerable, so worried beneath the impression he tried to give?</p><p>Had he always been so welcoming, so warm...</p><p>Had he always been so <i>right</i>?</p><p>The thought scared him. When, he wondered, had any of that slipped into the back of his mind?</p><p>When had Fairwind - <i>Flynn</i> - become charming rather than an annoyance? When had he started looking forward to seeing him?</p><p>When had the denial gotten so heavy that Mathias could no longer see through it?</p><p>This had started slowly, with a little note that went into the fire and it’d blossomed into an attachment that drove him into the streets of Stormwind, seeking out a man with no name. </p><p>And then, today, it had started with a greeting in a tavern, with questions and levity, with frustrations and embarrassment he hadn’t wanted to admit, and somehow he’d found himself with his hand caught in a callused one, standing beneath the fading light of the evening with a question hanging in the air between them. </p><p>It had started simply here and in Boralus about the Middenwake, on the docks, in the office; and, for the first time in his life, Mathias thought that, perhaps, it could end just as simply. It was a brief glimmer of hope and he latched onto it with all his might.</p><p>He’d let many things in his life escape and this one - in this moment - he worried that if he let it go, he’d simply stop breathing.</p><p>He was, if he was honest with himself, tired of watching life pass him by.</p><p>“You figured it out,” Mathias murmured, his eyes dropping to their hands. </p><p>Flynn laughed and reached out with his free hand. His fingers touched the bottom of Mathias’s chin and tipped his head up to meet the man’s eyes. “Just now, when you were about to slip through my fingers. I felt trapped...and if I held your hand, you would be, too.”  </p><p>Mathias smiled, and though it was a small smile, it warmed him in a way he’d long forgotten. “Clever.” </p><p>“Mm.” Flynn nodded slightly, just a fraction of movement. “Now, how about it, mate?”</p><p>“How about what?” </p><p>“Are you going to check yes...or no?”</p><p>In hindsight, it eventually occurred to Mathias that he’d done neither, but when he’d tugged on the man’s shirt, when his fingers sank into Flynn’s hair, when he could feel the man’s breath on his lips - when the space between them had <i>finally</i> slipped away... he figured he’d gotten the point across.</p>
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